


You Clicked Your Heels and Wished For Me

by gilligankane



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-13
Updated: 2010-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-17 08:19:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brittany looks over at Santana and smiles. "Tell me a secret."</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Clicked Your Heels and Wished For Me

Brittany presses the back of her head deeper into her pillow and sighs, reaching one hand out blindly, finding the edge of Santana’s t-shirt.

“Tell me a secret,” she commands gently, one finger tracing invisible lines on Santana’s hipbone.

She hears a slight intake of air and turns her head to one side, watching Santana bite down on her bottom lip before the brunette looks over and smiles gently.

“What kind of secret?”

Brittany shrugs her shoulders. “The secret kind.”

Santana rolls her eyes and lets out a breath that sounds like a laugh. “Fine,” she concedes, scrunching her nose and her forehead for a minute before the wrinkles fade and brown eyes are focused directly on Brittany.

“I wished for you.”

Brittany laughs, but only because it’s a reflex. “No you didn’t,” she manages in between breaths, her fingertips pressing into Santana’s skin.

Santana isn’t laughing though; just staring at Brittany in a way that says “ _yes, I did_.”

Her laugh dies quickly. “You wished for me.”

Santana’s eyes slide closed quickly, then open. “I wished for someone like you. I waited until the perfect moment, and I wished for someone to love me and I got you.”

“ _I got you_ ” should sound more like someone getting a consolation prize – like something someone settled for when they wanted something else – but Santana says it without smiling, or any amusement in her eyes; she says it with the most serious face Brittany has ever seen, not blinking, waiting for Brittany to say something back.

So Brittany smiles. “You did get me.”

Santana must not hear it, though, because she’s rolling onto her stomach, trapping Brittany’s hand between her body and the mattress, and she’s leaning close, her lips pressing against Brittany’s shoulder, her teeth scraping against bare skin. “My dad, he told me that I could pick anything in the sky, anything I wanted, and I could wish on it, for whatever I wanted.”

Brittany leans closer too, her forehead resting against Santana’s. “What did you wish on?”

“A red balloon,” Santana says quietly.

It makes her pull back and find Santana’s eyes. “That first day, when we first met on the playground-”

“And you had that red balloon,” Santana finishes. The brunette smiles softly. “I always thought that was someone up there telling me ‘hey, this is your sign, don’t miss it’.”

“We were eight.”

“Who am I to ignore fate?” Santana questions, her eyes a little lighter. “That’s my secret: I wished for you.”

Brittany leans back in, pressing her mouth against Santana’s, pulling away just enough to whisper, “That wasn’t really a secret.”

She can practically  _hear_  Santana roll her eyes before the brunette cups her cheek, pulling her back in for another kiss. “Once,” she says, her breath beating against Brittany’s chin, “I took a quarter out of the collection basket to buy you a ring out of the machines in the grocery store.”

Brittany smiles, but almost immediately frowns. “Well, where is it?”

Santana sighs.


End file.
